


What's It Cost To Save A City?

by sweetNsimple



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Begging, Bolivian Carlos Oliveira, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Game: Resident Evil 3 Remake (2020), M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Nikolai Ginovaef, Quechua Carlos Oliveira, Raccoon City (Resident Evil), Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28616100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: “We’re running out of time! I’ve got this.”Carlos pushed away from the railing, raising his firearm to his chest. “I know you do,” he replied softly.Jill might be able to take down a few holy shit tons of monster that was hundreds of times her size, but Carlos wasn’t so convinced that he could take down his own boyfriend.He ran off all the same.
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Carlos Oliveira
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	What's It Cost To Save A City?

“It’s been awhile. Subway’s gotta be clear of the city by now,” Carlos said with concern as they approached wrought iron gates.

“Along with your hot date?” Tyrell teased.

Carlos instantly knew his friend was talking about Jill. Tyrell was never so happy when talking about Carlos’s _actual_ “hot date”.

“Nah, she’s not like that. Hell, she’s not like anybody.” Carlos was a helpless flirt, no doubt. He’d flirt with any breathing body just to watch them turn red under his charm. Jill, though – yeah, she was all woman and a beauty at that, but she also made him think of his _pani_ , his sister. They had the same iron core of strength and sacrifice ran through both women like blood.

Tyrell chuffed. “Alright, keep your head screwed on, Romeo. This is the police station.”

“It’s not like that,” Carlos repeated. “You know I’m not on the market.”

Tyrell muttered with incredible emotion, “Don’t _even_ remind me.” And then, louder, “Maybe you _should_ be on the market. Maybe you’d consider it for someone like Jill Valentine?” His friend was all but bribing him to dump his significant other.

“I’m good,” Carlos replied, putting a stop to that old argument.

It wasn’t like Tyrell was the only guy in the U.B.C.S. who hated Carlos’s boyfriend. Mikhail shared his misgivings as well in a particularly colorful way that seriously called into question Carlos’s intelligence and sanity. Murphy had not-so-subtly offered to kill his boyfriend if he ever mistreated Carlos as a “thank you” for the times Carlos gave Murphy his tater tots in the U.B.C.S. cafeteria. Some assholes just said that “Sarge has Salsa Fever,” and mocked the living hell out of Carlos for being a naïve airhead. Colonel Vladimir himself laughed at Carlos every time they had the misfortunate of meeting as if Carlos was the greatest joke he had ever heard. There was zero support for Carlos’s choice of partner.

Aloud, Carlos said, “You sure this is a police station? ‘Cause it looks like a cemetery to me.”

Tyrell, thank his big brain, caught the clue-by-four and dropped the subject. They were quiet as they circled around the station.

~::~

Carlos was exhausted out of his fucking mind, running on fumes and weak dregs of adrenaline. His stomach felt like it was eating itself with hunger. He wished there was a sink around that he could stick his head under and guzzle from, he was so damn thirsty. He ran from the Disposal Center control room to a cavernous chamber in NEST 2, only to find that the fucking monster was back and bigger and uglier than ever. Jill was caught on the ground with it, looking hopelessly tiny against the monster’s extreme size.

“Jill!” He fell against the railing, about to toss his exhausted body overboard so at least she wouldn’t have to fight – and very likely fucking _die_ – alone.

She pointed toward the door that was to Carlos’s left. “Go after Nicholai! He’s got the vaccine!” She looked filthy and two breaths away from just collapsing after the impossible night they had both had.

Going after Nicholai was the _last fucking thing_ Carlos wanted. He didn’t even want to see Nicholai right now, he wanted nothing to do with that bitch after he had left everyone on the train to die! Now the bastard had set Jill up to be torn apart at _least_ twice and had taken the antidote that could save the entire city for himself.

But Jill wasn’t just asking him to, she was _telling_ him to, and there was so much fight left in those tired eyes that Carlos wavered. _‘Can’t we just switch and I fight that fuckin’ giant monster while you go after him?’_ he thought hopelessly. “What about you?” he yelled.

“We’re running out of time!” she screamed. And then, with that iron core that reminded him of his _pani_ , she added, “I’ve got this.”

Carlos pushed away from the railing, raising his firearm to his chest. “I know you do,” he replied softly. _‘I sure as hell don’t,’_ was what he was thinking, though. Him? Go after Nicholai? _Alone_?

Jill might be able to take down a few _holy shit_ tons of monster that was hundreds of times her size, but Carlos wasn’t so convinced that he could take down his own boyfriend.

He ran off all the same.

~::~

Carlos practically tripped onto the roof, thighs screaming after his sprint up the single flight of stairs. The elevator had felt slow as molasses and he thought there was no way in _hell_ Nicholai was still anywhere near the building. Too much time had passed. There was just no way!

He was wrong. Nicholai had not even gotten the blades moving on the chopper, body halfway through the front door.

At the sound of Carlos’s thundering footsteps, the sergeant nonchalantly stepped off the helicopter.

“Carlos,” Nicholai greeted. “You are either here to leave with me or you are asking for a quick death before the city is annihilated. Well, which is it? Choose quickly.”

“They haven’t sent the missile,” Carlos all but pleaded. “There’s still time to _save_ this city. Just give me the antidote!”

“Mm. No.”

“Nicholai…” Carlos swallowed thickly. He was thinking of the people in his life who had told him his lover would be the end of him. He was thinking of Colonel Vladimir laughing at him. _‘Fuck, I guess I am a joke.’_ “Babe. Please. I am begging.” He let his firearm clatter to the ground. Weak in the knees, dizzy from hunger and injuries, he stumbled toward his lover and then collapsed before him, like a disciple to their deity. He sat back on his calves, staring up at his boyfriend.

Nicholai watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, eyebrows pinched together as if looking for a trap.

Carlos hooked his fingers in the straps of Nicholai’s thigh holsters, tugging.

“That is just pitiful.” Nicholai was shaking his head in disappointment, even as he failed to move away. He failed to convince Carlos that he wasn’t having any effect on the Sarge. He failed to show that he didn’t care as he brought one gloved hand to Carlos’s wild curls and began absentmindedly teasing tangles out of his hair. “You should have more pride. You look like a cheap whore looking for a fix.”

“I’m trying to fix this city, and the antidote’s right there in your pocket. Not too far off, I guess.” He kept eye contact with his boyfriend, dark brown into pale green. Carlos opened his mouth wide, running the flat of his tongue slowly over the zipper of Nicholai’s pants. “Please, babe,” he begged.

Nicholai’s jaw flexed, lips twisted into a dark scowl. “You were always just an easy fuck, naïve little boy dreaming of _true love_ like a fairytale _princess_.”

Carlos watched the Sarge closely. “If you really believed that,” he said, “I’d bite your fucking dick off and shove it down your throat _. ¿Intindinkichu?_ ” _Do you understand?_

Nicholai touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of his lips. He paused for precious seconds. “My dick is still attached and I am not eating it.”

“Guess you don’t really believe that dumbass shit you just said to my face like a man who never wants to get laid again.”

Despite himself, Nicholai couldn’t contain a slight grin. It instantly transformed into a sneer. “You are not more important to me than money,” Nicholai told him cruelly.

Carlos gave Nicholai’s crotch another broad lick. “You sure about that?”

The Sarge growled low in his throat. “I _hate_ you!”

“You trying to convince me or yourself of that?”

“ _Blyad'_!” _Fuck!_

“We can, babe.” Carlos pulled them closer together, thighs split around Nicholai’s leg. He rolled his hips into his lover’s calf. “Whatever you want. You just gotta give me the antidote.”

Nicholai closed his eyes tightly, face a mask of rage and hatred. “FINE! _Fine_.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the antidote. “You owe me your _life_. I _own_ you for as long as you breathe. _Vy ponimayete?_ ” _Do you understand?_ “Say it, and the antidote is yours.”

Carlos shuddered as he finally felt like he could breathe again. He rubbed his cheek against the tent in his lover’s pants.

Fuck, he hated Nicholai so much right now.

“You own me,” he said. “I owe you everything. I’m all yours.”

It was onlyl Nicholai’s hand in his hair, nails lightly scratching against his sweaty scalp, that was keeping him from just bodychecking the fucker off the top of the building. So many lives had been lost because Nicholai could only think in currency.

He let himself be soothed by Nicholai’s petting.

A vial of purple liquid was waved impatiently in front of his face. “ _Bot._ ” _Here_. “Take it! Call your people, wannabe hero. Stop the missile. It will do you no good, this city is already damned.”

Carlos rucked Nicholai’s grey vest and shirt up with his nose and pressed a devout kiss just below the Sarge’s navel, tasting sweat and grime and the spicy bodywash his lover preferred. His hand snapped up as quick as he could move, snatching the vial before Nicholai could change his mind.

“ _Solpayki_.” _Thank you_.

Nicholai’s thumb stroked over his ear with gentle possession. “You will be thanking me for the rest of your life.”

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the RE3 cutscenes and I have opinions now. Carlos is all heart, sunshine and puppy dog eyes - and then there's Nicholai, a heartless piece of shit that looks like an unwell vampire. Call me strange, but the contrast between the two characters is highly appealing to me. Also, Carlos is Bolivian and speaks Quechua, a language spoken by several indigenous tribes ranging from Ecuador to Bolivia. I made this decision solely based on conversations I have had with AnotherAnon0. 
> 
> AS A LAST NOTE, ALLOW ME TO POINT OUT that Nicholai shot Murphy in the face at point blank range and showed no hesitation throughout the game to kill or to leave others to die. Explain to me how the fuck Carlos went after Nicholai alone and Nicholai, who is trying to escape a city that is about to disappear off the map, is like, "Oh, well, knocking him out with non-lethal force will be good enough for now." Where's your SELF-PRESERVATION, Nicholai, you rotten bitch? (Admittedly, this is definitely a CAPCOM plothole and not sentiment, but let me have this, damnit). 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos!


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